Black Death
by Noelabotha
Summary: A story about what would happen should The Kurgan ever find a wife.


21 Black Death

Dark and deadly… you have never seen…

Death stalks down the street with burning eyes of sapphire blue… hair a raven cloak shrouding broad shoulders. Mysterious darkness emanated from him as he moved and electric magnetism drew the eyes of many…

Six feet tall he stood in black leather boots as he stopped and turned to cast a furtive glance behind him… eyes searching, always searching for the one thing that could quench his thirst… his desire… his burning need… it was here… finally he'd found her again…

The last thing Beth thought to find when she looked up from the cash register was the six foot tall body of her husband. A soft cry escaped her throat and she lifted both hands to her thick mahogany hair where they lay bundled behind her head.

"Jacobeth." He breathed and she swallowed the urge to let out another small cry. "How did you find me Nikolai?" She managed to ask and scanned the room for a possible escape route, although she already knew there was none, not from him, not this time.

"I followed my… heart." But he had no heart…

"Meet me in the alley outside. I will not run…" He knew she wouldn't and nodded quietly, turned and left as soundlessly as he'd come. How was it that he still moved without making a sound…

Nikolai was leaning against the wall when she stepped out and as she had been for the past five hundred years she was yet again struck by his strange, but cruel beauty. There was something about his mouth that lured her, and she was powerless against him… powerless…

"Jacobeth." He stated easily in his deep resonant voice and she felt goose bumps appear across her entire body. Was it pleasure of fear that caused them?

"Please, call me Beth at least. No one has called me Jacobeth for… well since I sort of… you know… ran away. How did you find me?" It was a burning question and she knew it had nothing to do with his heart. He had no heart and if he had it was black as night.

"I am a hunter, and you were prey. I would not have stopped looking for you… ever. Where is the child?" Beth shuddered again and swallowed deep. "She died an old woman. She did not have the gift Nikolai… she was not immortal. I envy her death. It was so quiet…" A fleeting moment of intense loss travelled through his eyes and then he looked away.

"Why did you take her? She was mine too. I have often wondered if she resembled you… it kept me looking."

This time she had no words. There was no way to explain what had welled up inside her at his words. The night she'd fled she'd known he'd never stop looking for them, but somehow she'd hoped he'd just find another wife.

"You were a monster… Nikolai… you had the devil in your soul and you were going to harm us sooner or later. I couldn't stay." That was true he had to agree, but it was such a long time ago.

She knew in the deepest part of her soul that if he reached out his arms to her now she would not be able to resist him… she could not.

"Beth." Someone said behind her and she turned to find the manager of the bar, Toby, behind her looking uneasy.

"Are you all right out here?" She just nodded and tried a smile. "I'm fine. Look can I leave early tonight? I have some things to take care of." Toby let his eyes touch the tall dark stranger and he just nodded. "Sure." The screen door closed and with a sigh Beth slung her bag across her red t-shirt covered shoulder and started down the alley.

He was following; she knew… she could feel his presence in every fiber of her being.

It wasn't far to her apartment and they walked there in virtual silence. Beth noticed the looks he was getting and smiled to herself. A Viking berserker couldn't have drawn more attention than her tall husband.

It had always been like that. Always…

500 Years earlier

Jacobeth curled herself into a ball in the alley between two dockside drinking holes and tried to make herself as small as possible. To her dirty chest she clutched the cloth bag that held the few shillings she had been able to buy with her body, but she'd had enough of drunken stinking sailors tonight… enough.

The sound of steel caught her attention and she hazarded a look around the corner. Two men were hacking away at each other and she stood in awe as her gaze rested on the bigger of the two fighters.

He was immense she thought; and the bulk of his black armor only added to his brawn. He felled the other man easily and then turned to look at her… straight at her… as if he'd known she was there all the time…

Afraid she ducked back into the alley and grasped her belly as torturing pain ripped up her insides. Then he was there beside her, crouching down to touch a dirty cheek gingerly.

"What is your name pretty?" He breathed and the three dimensional resonance of his voice left her breathless.

"Jacobeth." She answered with a whimper and he grinned slowly. "My bed is in need of warming. Do you come?" Biting her lower lip she nodded against her will and better judgment and took the large gloved hand.

He led her to a large ship that lay in anchor in the harbor. "The Kurgan" she read in scrawled letters and tried to take in as much of her surroundings as she could. It might be the last thing she saw… every day was her last… and everyday she lived to see another…

Chained to the walls, she noticed as they reached the interior of the ship, were women of all ages, some in rags and some newly clothed, but they all shared a dull look in their eyes as they watched her walk by disinterestedly.

"Slaves to be sold." The dark man boomed in a strange rich voice as he noticed the stray of her doe brown eyes. "All slaves bought and sold… but not you pretty. You are special." They'd reached the very back of the ship by now and she was pushed into a small anteroom with a curt word.

"Another girl for the slaughter?" A creaking old voice asked and Jacobeth made to leave the room, but a strong hand held her back. "I have no wish to harm you, my child. He left you here to be cleaned. He cannot abide filth and you are covered in it."

That was true she had to agree and without any protestation at all she allowed the old woman to bathe and dress her and shave her… it was heaven to be so clean...

"Go into the door opposite. Captain Nikolai Kurgan will be there." Jacobeth did what she was told and touched a hand to the soft silk chemise she was now wearing.

Nikolai she thought with a shiver. So that was his name…

Present day

The apartment was small and somehow with him in it, it seemed even smaller. "You are still pretty." Sighing deeply she flopped into the kitchen chair and watched as he sat down opposite.

"Was it really that awful being my wife?" That was a daunting question… being in his arms had made it all worthwhile, and then he left her and she'd woken from a dream into the harsh reality of his life.

He was a slave trader that took women from their homes. Stole them from the street, chained them and then sold them for profit. It was not above him to rape and whip the ones he'd taken if he fancied… he was a monster that didn't mind killing for no reason.

He was also an immortal with a relentless thirst to kill others of his kind… and she was of his kind and so might be their child… how could she allow him to kill them when the time came?

"Yes. It was… and it wasn't… let's not talk of those days now? What do you do now?" He frowned. "I do not work sweet wife. I let others do that… I still have my fortunes amassed from the old days. This is stupid, Jacobeth… all I want to do is…" He stopped, not sure how to continue.

"But I am not that monster anymore. When you left with the child… I banished it. Jacobeth… just take my hand…" There was no way she could resist she realized and reached out with a shivering sigh.

"Nikolai… how do you do this? In five hundred years I have never been with another man." His fingers closed around hers tightly and he lowered his head as their life-force again mingled and engulfed them both.

They drifted into each other's arms and the love that followed filled her with such desire that as she lay cradled spent to his chest her heart did not falter its maddening staccato, and her lips still yearned for his pressed close… it was not natural…

500 Years ago…

Jacobeth lay quietly clasped against his wide chest, listening to the slow rise and fall of his breath… what had made her do this… what had made her come in here…

Powerful arms curled around her possessively and pulled her closer against him as if he loathed loosing the warmth of her skin.

Very slowly she tilted her head back and her eyes traced the line of the thick scar that slit across his throat. What would have been the cause of such a monstrous wound, and how had he managed to survive? Tenderly she pressed her warm lips against the scar and smiled when he let his head fall back a inch, exposing more of his throat, but he didn't wake up, and with a sigh she pressed her cheek to his chest.

His skin was pale as silk and blue veined she found. This thought made her frown. Surely the Captain of a ship would be exposed to the sun relentlessly on the high seas? Why wasn't even a part of him sun burned and copper?

His hair was thick and as black as midnight and hung to his shoulders in tousled disarray. It would be no small task to brush the snags from them, but she would do it gladly if he'd but ask.

Would he send her away if he woke? Like all the others would he press a coin in her hand and forget about her? How could she go back to her life after having experienced this man… she could never lie with another, not even if starvation threatened…

A loud knock resounded into the room and Nikolai was instantly awake. "Come!" He bellowed and the first mate appeared around the door, his burly unwashed form bringing the stench of the sea with it.

"Captain. The tide is high and we need the order to set sail." Carefully he dislodged her blushing body and sat up, running a hand through the hair she'd just admired.

"Set out. I will be up shortly." With that the other man left and Nikolai turned his attention back to the girl lying prone beneath the single cover, her eyes wide as she stared at the bulkhead above.

"You will stay with me." Her eyes flew to his and she bit her lower lip to hide a smile. "Until I tire of you." Her smile faded and she just nodded, resigned to her life. Maybe tomorrow she would be dead… why had she not expected cruelty… it was all she knew…

"They will be worth nothing sick and underfed." Jacobeth felt bold enough to venture two days into the journey. "Are you going to tell me how to handle the slaves now girl?" Lowering her eyes she shook her head and then remembered the comb in her hands.

"No… I do not presume… will you let me brush…" Her voice drifted off at the look in his eyes that could easily have been mistaken for tenderness. Was it?

"Will you let me wash and brush your hair? It is a small thanks for… all this." Not sure what to do with her hands now she folded them behind her back and attempted a faint smile.

"What makes you think you will not be sold at the market?" The words were meant to cut and they did, but she just shook her head and lowered her dark eyes to the ground.

"I… I do not presume to think otherwise, Captain. Yet… for this small time you have treated me well, and I am clean and fed and… dressed not in rags. If I were to be… sold, it might still be better than where I had been… for the first time in my entire life I do not retch and gag after having laid with a man. This is bliss."

Some small part of the dark Captain that hadn't been demolished yet was able to shine through and she saw real tenderness.

"I will accept the thanks you propose to give." His voice sounded less harsh, and the resonant notes slipped across her like balm. Maybe she had won some small battle here.

After having acquired a rough towel and soap and water Jacobeth set about her task with shaking hands, but as soon as she slipped her hands into the wet mass she managed to relax, and to her delight she felt him relax as well…

"Do you sing Jacobeth?" He breathed and she laughed softly. "My mother did say I could carry a tune fairly well." Deftly she let her fingers soap his thick hair and smiled when his eyes closed. "Sing then." His voice came out a hoarse whisper and she obliged, letting the long forgotten melody and words fill her mind until they spilled from her mouth in a soft lilting harmony that relaxed the giant man even further.

With a sigh she rinsed his hair until not a shred of soap remained and then set about drying and combing the thick mass.

"You do have a good voice…" He managed to whisper as her fingers and the soothing motion of the comb lulled him into a deep dreamless sleep. When he sagged into the chair she smiled to herself and kept combing until his hair was dry and gleaming in the lamplight.

Night had fallen outside…

The present

Nikolai was sitting on the balcony in the early morning sun, his hair shrouding bare shoulders as he stared down at his large bent hands. Inside was the suitcase that held his prized sword. He would have to use it soon.

Beth sat down quietly beside him and handed the steaming mug of coffee over with a grin.

"This cannot last." He breathed and she felt the cold grip her heart. "So you came to take my head then?" She whispered and he groaned, but it came out a growl. "You need to move to Holy Ground. Remove yourself from me… we were married on Holy Ground." What a day that had been.

"Only because you threatened the Priest with decapitation if I recall. He would not marry a slave trader to his whore… it didn't help that I was already carrying your child as well." The words were spoken softly, but each syllable was clear and melodic. He'd missed her voice, he realized and frowned.

"You could come with me?" The question was out before she could stop it. "No! I… I am a monster, sweet wife. Holy Ground would not be my savior. Not anymore. I renounced all that long ago. I created my own prison." Biting her lower lip to keep the words at bay she reached out and brushed a soft hand across his shoulder and down a powerful arm. He was still pale as death…

"They used to call you Death… I remember hearing about you after I'd left and thinking… that wasn't you at all, and yet it was what you had become. Nikolai… I love you. I've loved you from the first breath of this being, but… you are going to have to kill me. I could not… live without you again. Not even on Holy Ground. I could not survive the ages of this world without you. It is torture… I would rather be with our daughter…"

Sapphire eyes turned on her and the strange look there nearly severed her heart. "You are the one small part of peace I have ever had. I am four thousand years old, Jacobeth. From the day my father slit my throat and made me what I am…" He was quiet for a long moment.

"Jacobeth… I could not kill you… not even if I dredged up all the vile evil in my being… I have done terrible… unimaginably terrible things, but I could not kill you."

"Will you take me to her grave?" Nicolai breathed as he watched her dress for the day. Whether it was corsets and lace or t-shirts and jeans she still was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen…

"Do you really want to see?" He nodded and sighed deeply. "She is buried in Scotland. We lived there until she died…" His curt nod made her frown, and she wondered at the intent behind his dark eyes.

On impulse, and this was not something she ever did, or had ever done, she moved to his side and sat down in his lap, wrapped her arms around his strong neck and hugged tightly.

"I know what you have to do…" She whispered and pressed her cheek against his, gasping softly when his arms closed painfully around her and held tight. "Just hold me like this for now, Nicolai… and tomorrow will tell its tale…"

500 Years earlier

Jacobeth sat on the side of the large bed that they shared in the Captain's Quarters, her hand slipping across her belly. Not in all the time and all the men she had been with had she conceived. How could this happen? How had his seed managed to hold fast in her barren womb?

They had been at sea for the past three months, and she had not set foot off the ship in all that time. She was hardly ever allowed on deck, and she usually spent her time inside the upper staterooms with some of the servants and cabin boys. Her nights were spent with Nicolai, sometimes quietly talking, and sometimes more passionately.

She'd learned a lot about him and his past, and in turn had told him about herself. She'd been born in Scotland, on the shores of Loch Shiel, and had travelled to Dublin with her mother when she was a child. The black plague came and ravaged the land… and somehow, even after being declared plague ridden, she'd gotten better. Her mother had died… and she was alone… nineteen years old and an outcast.

She'd travelled from fishing village to harbor port, scratching together enough pennies to eat, stealing clothes from windows and clothes lines. She'd been raped and beaten and… still, she lived for another day… and then Nicolai came… and now this…

"I… need to tell you something." She began that evening, and joined him where he stood by the wide bulkhead window. "What could you possibly say that I do not already know, pretty?" She swallowed hard and touched a hand to his broad shoulder.

"I… I'm c-carrying your child…" She whispered and jerked her hand back when he turned instantly, recoiling from her like a snake. "I cannot father a child!" He cried and lashed out with one hand, sending her to the ground at his feet. She cried out and covered her face with both arms, tasting the familiar taste of blood in her mouth.

"Neither could I conceive!" She managed after she watched him turn and walk to the other side of the cabin. "I have never conceived, not in thirty years upon this earth… you know what I am, Nicolai, I did not think myself capable of motherhood… but you are here, in my belly, growing, and…" She was quiet as he strode back to her purposefully, and she slipped both arms around her belly for the protection it lent.

"Are you certain?" She nodded and stood quietly, pulling her gown flat across her belly. The bulge was unmistakable. "I've never had a… a… women's time, as Amita calls it… but she is certain as well… and it's… I can feel it move." One large hand reached out and rested against her belly, as if he was trying to ascertain the truth from his touch.

"I feel it… growing." Nicolai was quiet as he stood there for a long moment touching her belly, his touch gentle. "I was told… I could not father a child, by the one who made me." At last his arms reached out to pull her roughly against him and she bit back her tears, anchoring her arms around his waist. "Maybe this one did not know the way of it then… because this child could only be yours."

The present

Nicolai took her to work that evening and sat brooding at the bar the entire evening as she served drinks and traded friendly smiles with well known customers.

He still drank Vodka and it still had no effect on him at all. As always there was a vacant space that surrounded him begot by the danger he emanated.

What vexed him most about the whole evening was the reason behind her working in such a place? Why on earth was he sitting here watching as she served drinks like a common wench! She was his wife. She was five hundred years old and… she was his wife!

He was Nicolai Kurgan… and the name held such a wealth of terror that they'd even used his name and likeness, which was amazingly close to the target, in a movie about immortals not long ago. He had the suspicion that whoever had done the writing had come across him somewhere in the past. He must have made quite an impression…

She was still thinking about his brooding silence when a clammy hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled hard. Caught off balance she stumbled against the bar and cried out softly before her flashing eyes met and held those of a well known abusive drunk she'd met on occasion.

"How about a kiss girlie!" He sneered and the rankness of him and his breath made her pull a face. It brought back so many unwanted memories…

"If you don't let go of my arm, Dick, I'll..." She managed to say just before a strong hand closed around the stringy wrist with the sickening crunching sound of bones breaking. The fingers released her wrist instantly and a cry welled up in her assailant's throat.

"I might kill you this night… but it would be frowned upon. Take your drink and your broken wrist and leave… Dick. My wife is not for sale." He growled and propelled the injured man easily to the door.

There was a loud chorus of cheering when Nicolai re-entered the smoke filled room and he frowned at this, meeting his wife's eyes with a confused look. Why did she work here, he was asking… the question was clear in his diaphanous blue eyes…

When he was sitting at the bar again she walked over quietly and placed a shot of vodka before him, trying not to smile when he took her hand and gently slipped his fingers across the bruised flesh.

"You found me outside an inn do you remember?" His nod was curt. "You were filthy and crouching on the ground like an animal… then I saw your eyes and there was no fear at all. No fear… because everything you feared had already happened… except me… my pretty… when did I become your worst nightmare?"

He was still holding her hand when one of the locals that she had to admit was rather sweet on her appeared behind Nicolai and in a loud I-am-being-a-hero voice demanded to know if the fellow holding her hand was troubling her.

Nicolai turned before she could answer and pinned the newcomer with a look that would make a demon turn and run. "She is my wife… and this is the last evening she will be working here. Do you want a drink or do you want to leave on a stretcher. My patience grows thin." All this was said in a voice barely audible, but the intent behind each perfect syllable turned the other man paler and paler still.

"Can I have a brandy straight?" He asked and Beth nodded quietly, feeling sorry for him. Nicolai turned back to the bar and swallowed down the shooter without pulling a face.

"Give the man his drink Jacobeth." He breathed and she obeyed without thinking. Nicolai's threat passed through the establishment like wildfire and soon everyone was saying please and thank you and not looking at Beth directly. Everyone had been properly intimidated it seemed.

And that was Nicolai for you… daunting and feared and respected without thought…

500 years earlier

"I have found an island and a priest." Nicolai said as he pulled her from the warmth of their bed. Deftly he wrapped a cloak around her shivering shoulders and lifted her easily against his chest. She was far along with child by now, and the day of birth drew nearer and nearer. "What do you mean?" She breathed and he adjusted her against his chest before leaving the cabin, but he did not answer her question.

"I will not marry a whore to a murderer!" The old priest cried, and Jacobeth was placed gently on a wooden bench in the small chapel by the large captain. With him came six or seven of his most trusted men and they were all cutthroats to the last.

"If you do not marry her to me, priest, I will have your head on a pole outside this church, and we will pillage this pitiful village and kill every last person in it!" Nicolai drew his sword and settled the blade against the trembling priest's neck. "Her name is Jacobeth McDonnell, and I am Nicolai Kurgan. We do not have the luxury of time!" The priest nodded and crossed himself a few times before he beckoned Jacobeth closer.

With an ungainly gait she moved across the cold stone floor and started shivering instantly, her teeth chattering. After a word from Nicolai one of the men ripped his cloak from broad shoulders and placed it at her feet for her to stand on. They weren't sure why the captain was marrying this woman, or why he cared about a child. He'd killed and sold many…

The vows were spoken and soon she was a Kurgan as well. A fine golden band rested around her finger, and his… and not even the grudging blessing from the priest could take away the joy she felt...

The present

Jacobeth sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes touching the golden band she still wore around her finger. It had never been a symbol of his undying love or need, and she wasn't even sure if he was capable of love, but… maybe it had been his promise to her. He'd married her on holy ground after all, and he was hardly a religious man. It might have been his way of promising trust to her… she'd never know now what might have been had she stayed…

Nicolai turned onto his belly behind her and she shifted to watch him. His hair fell across his face and shoulders and his breathing was slow and even. Faint silver scars criss- crossed his back and she sighed, not remembering them.

Tenderly she wiped the hair from his cheek and she placed a kiss on the pale skin. Entrancing blue eyes opened and seared into her. "I should never have left you… I should have stayed with you and… loved you Nicolai… even had the demons consumed us all, I should still have stayed." With a growl he moved onto his side and reached up to slip a hand around her frail neck.

"I forgave you a long time ago… now it is your turn to forgive me. I know why you left, wife… and I do not blame you for fearing me." The resonance of those words filled her being and she slipped into his waiting arms to be wrapped against his hard chest. They shared their passion for most of the morning, and when dusk gathered they rested in each other's arms.

PREVIOUSLY

Jacobeth lay panting against the stark white pillows with her eyes closed against the immense pain she had just endured. She was vaguely aware that the midwife was doing something, but the memory of the pain was so overwhelming that she could hardly manage to breathe.

"Jacobeth?" His resonating voice trembled through her and she opened her eyes to find his. "It is over now." His lips rested for a mere moment against her cheek before he carefully gathered her to his chest and held her closely.

"Your child." The old midwife breathed and Jacobeth pushed away from his chest to accept the tiny bundle. "She is perfect Nicolai." She breathed after he'd dismissed the woman and he just nodded.

"She is that... and she might be immortal too." Those words drew her eyes to his and she frowned. "What does that mean?" She whispered and he just shrugged and reached out to touch the small head with a tender hand.

"It means what it means wife. Do not worry about that now." Smiling strangely he kissed her lips and she sighed when he held them both to his chest. She wasn't going to worry about his words now…

Two women had been raped and whipped on the decks above, and she could hear the others whimper as she stood in the hallway that led upstairs. She was not allowed upstairs, and with good reason.

Their daughter lay safely nestled in her crib locked in their cabin, and again she wondered about raising a child here.

Nicolai was up there, she knew he was, because he wasn't down here, and… had he raped those women as well? Amita was caring for them now… but their skins were marred and they'd be sold for a pittance to a whorehouse somewhere.

One of the men stumbled down the steps, and she could taste the stink of him in the back of her throat. He didn't notice her, and she moved quietly into the shadows as he unchained another luckless woman to drag her screaming to the open door. In his haste to subdue the wretched girl he forgot the door open and Jacobeth was treated, of rather, subjected to the horrific rape…

Nicolai didn't do the raping, she found, and bit into her lip so hard that she tasted blood, he did the whipping… and he did it while she was face down, spread eagled and being raped by one of the men. Her screaming drew laughter from him, and Jacobeth stifled her nausea.

"What had you expected?" Amita whispered by her side and Jacobeth nearly cried out in fright. "He is a demon." She declared and the captain's wife simply nodded. "You are the first woman that he ever brought onto this ship that hadn't been beaten or flogged or raped within a day…" Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched them rip the girl's clothes off and she was turned around on the rough wooden deck to be raped and whipped again… the whip tearing into soft female breasts that had never even seen the sun…

What made Nicolai look straight at her, Jacobeth could never know, but she cried out when he did and started running for the cabin.

He followed with a demented bellow, and Jacobeth hurled herself into the room just before he followed. He was still holding the whip in one hand and his shirt and coat were flecked with the blood of the girls he'd whipped.

"Do you spy on me!" He screamed and she shook her head, hearing vaguely that their daughter had awoken in her crib. She was mewling like a forlorn little kitten.

"No! Nicolai! I heard the screams, and… someone left the door open!" The whip raised and fell across her side stingingly, ripping her shirt. "Please don't hurt me!" She cried out and sagged to the floor, hands covering her face. For a long moment Nicolai stood watching her and then his daughter's crying broke in on his state of dementia and he moved to the crib to touch a soothing hand to her little bald head.

"Shh little girl…" He breathed, and the whip fell from his bloodied hand. "Shh." Her crying stopped as she was lulled back to sleep and when he turned Jacobeth was still crouched on the floor like a wounded animal, crying in great tearing sobs.

The spilling of blood, the screams of the women he whipped, the wild demented rage that welled and filled his being to capacity drained away, and all that was left was the hollow curse of disgust and wretchedness. He'd nearly whipped her…

"Jacobeth." He breathed and removed his soiled shirt and coat before he went to her. "Why would you do all those things to those women?" She whispered when he knelt before her, and there were no words to describe what he felt.

"It is what I am… I am a monster, and not even the blissful peace you bring can still the bloodlust… it flows and ebbs in my soul and fills me with darkness… I should have left you on holy ground… soothe the demons Jacobeth… touch me and… will them to subside…" Mesmerized by his voice she slipped her hands across his chest and around his neck…

With her daughter in her arms Jacobeth made her way unseen across the empty ship and down the gangplank. Dressed as she was in Amita's old clothes, no one recognized her. No one hardly ever saw her, so they had no recollection of her face and movement.

Nicolai had taken his men into the large town and down to the slave markets to sell the women they'd so brutally raped not a week ago.

It was her chance to escape, and she had no other option but to run. Nicolai was growing more and more violent as each day progressed, and she was sure he now partook in the raping as well. She couldn't just love him and pretend he wasn't a monster anymore!

She'd stolen a small bag of gold coins from his dresser, and she was sure they would sustain her for a long time if she lived moderately.

She knew Glasgow well and taking the back alleys she finally emerged into a deserted coach yard.

"How far will this take me?" She said urgently to the driver of a likely looking coach and he smiled toothlessly. "Far enough." She nodded and slipped inside, trying not to exhale until they were well away from the city.

She'd never be free of her love for him… but they'd be safe at least. She could live with that.

The cry as it echoed across the sea was so wretched and forlorn that it stirred the waves and drew the fog from the currents. The painful lament drifted through the still night and was lost in the thick miasma… Jacobeth… my child… where have you gone…

The present

The small fenced cemetery was nearly ten miles from Glasgow and stood alone and forlorn amongst the heather beneath the bleaching sun. There was a ruin church nearby, but they paid it no heed as they walked quietly to the graves.

Beth couldn't remember what the church had been called… could only remember the intense sense of loss she still felt being here.

The simple inscription was nearly faded with time, but to the keen eye could still be read. Although Beth didn't need to read the words, she knew them by heart. "Nicole – Daughter of Nicolai and Jacobeth – As she was in life may she be in death, a Peaceful Angel." Beth read and touched the headstone with a sigh.

"And here we are my husband, on holy ground and it could be no more holy than this." Nicolai hunched down and touched the ground at his feet. "You named her for me?" She nodded. "How could I do otherwise… her eyes were as blue as yours and her hair just as black, even at the end her hair was still black as night and her eyes wide blue pools of trust."

They were thus in silence for a long time, and when Nicolai rose she knew he had reached a decision.

"We are the last to live this wretched state of being. Will you live with me… here…" Her nod was barely a jerk of her head, but…

"Are you sure?" His hand leaned against the simple squared headstone and he nodded in silence.

"I have found peace here…"

THE END


End file.
